


Two Against Nature

by KittyAug, KittyAugust (KittyAug)



Series: Of Hunters and Hellblazers [9]
Category: Constantine (TV), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: Multi, References to Prostitution, Sex Magic, Threesome - F/M/M, sacrilegious content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-08 16:42:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3216155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyAug/pseuds/KittyAug, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KittyAug/pseuds/KittyAugust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Voodoo, sex magic, and a threesome - why not!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is a Steely Dan song (and album) which deals with voodoo themes.
> 
> This is set during the 'voodoo thing' Louisiana period just before the start of SPN. Occurs after the _first chapter_ of [Righteous Men](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2867741) and before [The Stars That I See Watching Me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2952962).
> 
> Note, Chapter 1 is indulgent plot/character stuff. Smut is on the way in Chapter 2.

Mama Xala was breathtaking, if a little terrifying. With a thick Creole accent that spoke directly to Dean’s libido despite the stereotypical voodoo setting. Seriously, had she dressed this place from a horror film props department? Skulls and candles, beads and drying herbs, heavy sage smoke in the air. But her heady sex appeal overcame the tacky surroundings.

She had some kind of history with Constantine, too. That didn't help. It was painfully obvious. John laid the flirtation on even thicker than usual and pure sex hung in the air between them. Thicker than the incense that filled the witch’s rooms and Dean’s lungs. Dean thought he should maybe be jealous of it. But he wasn’t. Not really. It was mostly just distracting. He found his mind wandering to images of soft dark breasts and hard pallid muscle. Black painted finger nails running through blond hair. Like a dark visceral promise. It was kind of frustrating actually.

Beads and bracelets sang whenever the Voodoo Queen moved. Dean was brought back down to reality when her jingling hand came to rest on his arm. Lines of cold metal, warm woods, and hot skin. He startled and she smiled. She smelled like spices, jasmine and blood. And her night dark eyes were focused on him. He thought he could see galaxies in there. But even though she looked at Dean she was speaking to John.

“This one’s beautiful,” she said. And Dean felt like she meant more than his looks. He tried not to shiver. “Strong." She pinches his arm. "So bright... Angels’ glory?”

“Yep,” Constantine said, looked up from lighting yet another cigarette to smirk at the Voodoo Queen. They had been dancing around some kind of complex negotiation for half an hour and it must be his fourth at least.

She nodded. “That’s mah price then. You want mah blood, me words, mah wisdom. Then ah want him. Tonight. For Erzulie.”

Constantine actually froze up at that. Staring first at Xala then at Dean.

“It a fair price, darlin'” she pointed out. "Love for blood." Traced a bejeweled finger along Dean’s jaw. It made him shudder. Conflicted between desire and revulsion. He wasn’t stupid he got what they were discussing even if half the terms didn’t make sense.

“Not mine to sell, luv,” Constantine said slowly. “But I’ll stand it. Wouldn’t be my first round with the Maîtresse. Probably not me last either.” He winked at her but she didn’t seem impressed.

“Oh, John,” she laughed. It jangled and chimed like her jewellery. She abandoned Dean for a while to lean over the Hellblazer. Looking him up and down. “We’ll have you too. We always do. You know it.”

“Now listen ‘ere, luv…” Constantine started to argue.

“I’ll do it,” Dean said, quickly. Before he lost his nerve. Shrugging off any trepidation.

Hell, whoring yourself out to an attractive chick was every rent-boy’s fantasy, right? Well except for that kid Tommy – his had been Keanu Reeves walking into that sleazy Indiana truck stop - but the principle was the same. Being propositioned by a hot voodoo chick wasn’t the worst thing Dean had done for a case. Wasn’t even the worst thing he’d done for cash.

“You don’t have to, luv,” Constantine said. “There’s _always_ another bargain with this one.” But he didn’t look angry. Just surprised. Maybe even a little protective? Huh.

Dean rolled his eyes. They needed her help. She was hot. He would probably screw her even if it wasn’t part of the case. And people were dying. How was this even a problem? Right?

“Yes - I’m sure, man," Dean laughed. "Have you seen her?” Forced as much of his usual lascivious confidence into it as he could.

Xala laughed too. Another tinkling, overwhelming thing that made his blood rush in time. Constantine made a little humph sound and crossed his arms. Eyes narrowed – watching Dean closely. Dean wasn’t quite sure how to interpret that. But that went for half the things the Hellblazer did. It might be jealousy, it might be envy, it might even be concern, or something else entirely. Probably some self-loathing combination that Dean would never understand.

It didn’t really matter. He was doing this with or without the Hellblazer.

0oOo0

It turned out that preparing for ritualistic voodoo sex magic took a while.

Mama Xala led them both upstairs to a massive bedroom. It had bare wood floors on which a bunch of symbols were painted in a bizarre mixture of colours and materials. At least some of them were blood – yuck. There was a large and ridiculously over-decorated canopied bed, a lot of candles, and an altar. And not much else.

Dean was surprised when Xala left without another word. Leaving them alone in the big room.

Constantine just muttered, “Bloody typical.” Shook his head and wandered over to a lace curtained door on the left-hand wall.

“Is she coming back?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, eventually.” The exorcist disappeared behind the curtain. Dean could hear him mumbling to himself about “voodoo manners” and the lack of some herb. Followed by “a-ha!” and then water running.

Constantine reappeared in the lacy doorway. He had shed the trench coat, tie and shirt. Dean couldn’t help a hot little thrill at the sight of him. Fading bruises he had left along the exorcist’s collar bone and chest. A healing set of tooth marks in the shoulder too which matched Dean's teeth. It was possessive and stupid. But no one else had to know.

“You still sure you wanna do this, mate?”

“Yeah.” And he was sure. Well, he was pretty sure. He was sure enough to do it anyway.

“You realise we’re being offered up as sexual sacrifice, right?”

“Whatever,” Dean said. And the ‘we’ in that statement was way more reassuring than it should be.

“Come on then.”

The room behind the curtain was a weird kind of preparation area with a stone bench and a big sink. Walls of shelves but no other furniture so it couldn’t even be called a bathroom despite the tiles. Dean remembered that they squatted in a big old place when they were teenagers that had a room like that. What had Sammy called it? A scullery? Dean supposed that’s what it was.

Constantine had filled the basin with warm water and herbs and flowers from various jars on the shelves. It made the whole room smell like tea and the air was humid and heavy with the steam of it.

“C’mere,” Constantine said around yet another cigarette. The smoke was mixing with steam and making the air even harder to breathe. “Shirt off an’ sit.”

Dean did as he was told, stripped to the waist then took the hard wood chair next to the sink. It was all strangely clinical so far. John must have noticed something because he paused in wetting a cloth to look at Dean again. The hunter was getting pretty sick of all the sincere and slightly concerned gazing.

“Take a picture dude,” Dean bristled. “It’ll last longer.”

“You ‘reckon?” Constantine responded but he didn’t seem to have taken much offense – if anything he was amused. But he did look away and focus on whatever he was doing with the scented water.

Even though Dean half-watched him do it the first touch of warm damp fabric was still a shock. It was oily and it tingled – almost stung. Not just the contact from the cloth and Constantine’s skin but also where the liquid trailed down his back. He shivered.

“What the hell’s in that stuff?” Dean asked. Mostly defensive, a little curious.

“Magic,” John said derisively. “It’ll _help_ , and it’ll put a barrier between you and the Iwa. Xala’s good but she isn’t in this for either of us, yeah. Now shush.”

It was kind of awkward. Dean hadn’t had a sponge bath in years. Probably not since he had that fever when he was a kid. Even injured he was always fiercely independent. He had to fight the urge to squirm away. Constantine did his back first. Even sponged some of the liquid into Dean’s hair.

Then he got a lap full of Hellblazer and any other associations were thrown out the window. It was still weird though just in a different way and for a whole other set of reasons.

Constantine moved with familiar ease. Like it wasn’t strange to straddle another guy and wash him with creepy magic water. Like them being this close was easy. Natural even. And yes they had been hooking up every night for a week. And yes they were about to have some freaky voodoo threesome. But there’s something else in this level of familiarity. Something that should be terrifying but isn’t.

Constantine was rough with it though which helped make up for the subtle intimacy. But there was no hesitation. Each brush of damp fabric catching on Dean’s skin and leaving a trail of static in his flesh. John was focused on what he was doing so Dean could actually look at him. Watch the way his face moved, half-chewing on the cigarette balanced on his lip and the slight frown that accompanied his concentration. He stopped occasionally to flick cigarette ash onto the tiled floor. Purposefully disrespectful. Smoke coiling around him like a defense.

And when he finished Constantine leaned in to kiss Dean like it was nothing. So the hunter kissed him back like it was something.


	2. Chapter 2

“Starting w’out me boys?” Xala asked from the doorway. Her hair had been wound with pink and gold ribbons and she had changed into some pink and blue satin robe thing. It should have looked girly and over the top. But instead it looked like she was dressed for battle. Her skin had been painted too with patterns of golden lace. It was beautiful, and scary, and powerfully feminine all at once.

“Wouldn’t dream of it Mama,” Constantine sneered. But he extracted himself from Dean’s lap, squeezing the back of the hunter’s neck lightly as he went, and turned to face the Voodoo Queen.

Dean realized there was something in the creepy bath tea stuff as soon as they stopped touching. His skin started to feel all warm and _needy_. Like his whole freaking body was turned on and just needed to be touched. It wasn’t bad exactly. Just unnerving.

“Ah’m startin’ the evocation. Y’all ready?”

“Always, luv.” John glanced back at Dean. “C’mon then.”

When they went into the other room Constantine snapped his lighter with a little flourish and all of the candles lit. It was impressive to Dean but Xala failed to be enthralled. She just grabbed a length of purple rope off the altar and threw it at John. Forcing him to pocket the lighter quickly to catch it.

“Really?” Constantine asked.

“Yeah,” she said with a little shrug before settling in front of the altar. “He’s new. She maght not like ‘im.”

“Oh, she’ll like him alright luv,” John said with a smug little wink.

“I’m _right_ here,” Dean said. But was ignored.

“You’re not a god John Constantine, no matter what the pretty thing tells ya, so do not presume to know one. You’re a guest in this here circle and ah’ll beg you remember it.”

“Hmph,” Constantine sniffed. But from the set of his shoulders and the fact he walked over to Dean and led him to the bed without further argument, Dean suspected that Xala had won. For now at least – that was… interesting.

“Hands,” John said and because Dean was apparently a smitten idiot he complied without thinking. Placing both wrists together and holding them up in front of him. But because he was still a trained hunter they were on a slight angle so he’d have wiggle room once they were tied. Constantine noticed that and smiled at him and laid a kiss on his temple. Too soft to be anything but affectionate. “She’ll untie you if she accepts the offering.”

Dean just nodded because really what else was there to do at this point. He had to file that thought away for later because the Hellblazer kissed him again which somehow shorted out his neural functions. His world was subsumed in tongue and kiss and touch. He was only half aware of Xala chanting in the background a deep mumbling thrum in some patois French and Latin blended ritual. The humming beat of her voice matching the thrumming pulse of his blood and desire.

He reached out and his fingers grazed the hair of Constantine’s chest. In the back of his mind he knew he should be more excited about the hot priestess in lace but right then that scrape of unquestionable masculinity was driving him wild. And John must have picked up on it because he moved in hard and fast. A firm hand on the back of Dean’s head and just the right amount of scratch and force. And Dean just submitted to it. Unquestioningly. He was already so deep in this and it felt good to just let go and breathe it all in. With his hands bound he could feel the silk of the rope soft against skin contrasted with the tension of the knot that held him in place. It was symbolic at most but damn did it work for him.

Mama Xala’s pace was picking up. John broke the kiss, breathing hot and smoke sweet.

“Xala’s an odd bird but it ain’t her we’ll be dancing with tonight, yeah?” Constantine said, voice and gaze equally intent. “Erzulie isn’t someone you mess with but she won’t hurt you neither. She’s all love, and lust, and sex. Pure an’ simple. She’s a lady and you treat her like one, we’ll be all good, yeah?”

“Yes sir,” Dean said with a slight smirk.

When John pulled away to stand in the middle of the room Dean felt that weird fire under his skin return. Left aching and oddly bereft, half sprawled on the edge of the satin covered bed. He bit his lip and tried to breathe. Tried to control the nerves and stinging heat in his skin. Tried to let anticipation take hold instead of trepidation.

Xala stood up from the altar and turned to face Constantine. Dean’s breath caught when he saw that her eyes had turned pure frigging gold. And that should not be hot but it really freaking was. If he was honest with himself the monstrosity of it was part of why it worked. Dean thought he must be pretty twisted if something that close to demonic was turning him on that much. But if the Hellblazer could take it then so could he, right? If the world's most famous demon hunter was willing to take a tumble with something like that then it couldn't be all bad. Right?

“Mistress,” John said with far more respect than he had showed the rest of the night. His little bow didn’t even seem all that mocking. “Akeyi nan mond lan. Long-time no see.”

“John Constantine?” Xala, or _not_ Xala, said. Her voice had gained a strange harmonic and a thicker accent. An otherworldly pitch that echoed and resonated when she spoke. She even moved differently. That managed to send a chill down Dean’s spine but not enough to counteract the hot aching neediness in his flesh. He held back a shudder.

“That’s me, luv.” The Hellblazer looked her over carefully - measuring something but Dean had no idea what or why.

The goddess, or whatever she was, started to circle and John followed her. It reminded Dean of nothing so much as a very sensual knife fight. Both of them poised on the edge of action but waiting for the other to move. But this dance had steps Dean didn't recognize and rules he didn't understand.

In the end Xala moved first. Swept up into Constantine’s space and ran a hand through his hair. Examined him like a tempting specimen. He just kind of stopped and let her; planted his feet and went even more pliant than usual. He may talk big but Dean could tell he was cautious. Whatever she was she was powerful enough to give the Hellblazer pause. And okay, yep, that was pretty hot too. Fuck – just when Dean thought the guy couldn’t debauch him any further here they were.

“Èske ou pou mwen?” she asked. And Dean had no idea what she was saying but John seemed to understand because he grinned.

“Ah... Si w ap gen m',” Constantine said. The soft rolling francophone vowels sounded too sharp on his tongue. Gave a coy smile that told Dean all he needed to know about the meaning even if he didn’t recognize the language.

It seemed to satisfy the goddess too. She smiled back grabbed John’s hip and pulled him in. Dean was already exceedingly aware of the exaggerated way that John Constantine moved. Threw his body into every action, constantly moving and a bit strung out. And he knew objectively that he kissed the same way. Knew what it _felt_ like. But he’d never seen all of that passionate force from the outside before.

He arched up into her and gave every time she pushed and chased her every time she pulled. He didn’t stop moving until she broke the kiss and turned her golden focus on Dean.

“Ti gason an?” she asked. Or Dean assumed it was a question. She raised an eyebrow and turned back to Constantine for some kind of confirmation anyway.

“Repons lan se wi,” John said with a slight shrug. “Youn aswè a sèlman.” And whatever that was it was half a joke but she didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she just didn’t care.

She pushed Constantine away with a soft lingering touch and stalked towards Dean. He could see the ‘pure sex’ thing - that same otherworldliness in her voice was in her body too. She moved with a graceful disconnect that was as terrifying as it was mind-bendingly sexual. She even smelled different. That same floral and blood smell but it’s gained another stranger tone – something he couldn’t place like the smell of heat or the taste of snow.

She looked him over with a critical eye. It was even worse than the first time. And he realized he was holding his breath.

“Mwen p'ap asepte lajan taks ou,” she said.

“Thought you already had, luv,” Constantine responded. She glanced back at him with enough disdain that it was clear she understood English but just chose not to speak in it.

Dean could feel himself quivering with equal trepidation and anticipation. Tried to keep his mouth shut. Tried not to do or say anything to blow this. But damn was it tough. The urge to mask his anxiety with sarcasm had his tongue pressed against his teeth to hold it back.

“Do you think ah’m pretty, garcon?” the goddess asked him. Ran a long clawed finger up his throat and tugged his eyes up to hers.

“Yes, ma’am.” Because it was true and seemed the safest option. He could hear Constantine chuckle in the background but couldn’t quite drag his eyes away from the depths of gold before him. She placed a firm hand on the bindings at his wrist and tugged him toward her and into a sickly sweet kiss. She tasted like apples, rum and possibility. Her skin felt like liquid sin when she pressed in close.

He knew it was cheesy but all he could think of was that Alice Cooper line: ‘ _black lace on sweat_ ’. Skin and fabric and tension as her gown moved against his bare chest and her hand pulled him in closer. Her long fingers dragged down his arms and started to tangle with the ropes at his wrist. He half remembered being told that would happen. It was all symbolic or something. But right then all he could focus on was the feeling of skin, satin and lace and the taste of her lips.

Kissing her was nothing like kissing the Hellblazer. Or anyone else for that matter. It seemed sweet and soft. And she was tiny compared to him. He should have felt some sense of control. Some sense of power shift at least. But it wasn’t like that. She wasn’t, in that moment, human. And there was no doubt in his mind that she could crush him with a thought. His skin didn’t just tingle anymore; it burned. The air almost shimmered and he was pretty sure there was static. Like a hot moment before thunder.

She pushed them both back into the bed. Elongated their bodies while her hands began to explore his form. He bucked up into her kiss. Couldn’t help it. Needed friction like air. Heard her chuckle – deeper and more resonant than it had been. Darker and infinitely older.

He felt rather than saw Constantine move – felt his arm slide between them and wind around the goddess’ waist. Dean realized he’d closed his own eyes and forced them open just as Xala, or whatever, released him from the kiss to lean back into the exorcist’s touch. She arched back to kiss the man behind her without taking her hands off Dean. He actually couldn’t breathe. Stifled by his own lust and the deep seated ache of desire in his bones.

Constantine whispered something to the goddess and she laughed and responded in that same strange language. Dean could feel it run through him where she sat atop his hips – didn’t quite manage to swallow back his own moaning sound. Constantine shot him a half smile around the kisses he was working into Xala’s shoulder.

He was so rapt in the spectacle that it took Dean a moment to realize that Constantine was pushing at his hip – urging him to climb further up the bed and make room. Dean shuffled back as best he could, sliding out from under Xala, and barely missed being crushed when she rolled and pulled John down on top of her. He heard a muffled curse as the exorcist was moved through inhuman strength. But a moment later the show seemed to be completely and wholeheartedly back on the road.

Dean found himself tagged back in when John started to kiss his way down the Xala’s body. The goddess grabbed the hunter’s arm and pulled him back down to kiss her apple sweet lips. He felt her tense under him a few moments later and knew exactly what was going on. God damn if that wasn’t one of the hottest things ever. He could feel every buck and hitch of her body. Swallowed down each moan of aching bliss.

There was something hot and hard and thrumming in his veins in response. When she came she bit his lip – not quite hard enough to draw blood but enough to make him whimper. She shoved the hunter away from her and spoke to Constantine again. The demonologist rolled his eyes but seemed to agree or respond appropriately.

“You’re up, luv,” John said with a wink. Threw a condom into Dean’s lap then kissed the goddess again. Dean rushed to comply. He’d been half crawling out of his skin for the last half hour and he wasn’t about to get squeamish now. He just shrugged and grinned back a little sheepish when he saw Constantine giving him and amused look. He was a 26 year old red blooded guy and this was hot as hell, he had every right to be a little eager.

Xala raked her nails down John’s chest and Dean liked the way he visibly reacted as the red welts formed. Then she was stripping the exorcist of his belt and pants like the wild thing she was. John braced himself against the ornate canopy frame with his arms above his head. Constantine asked her something and she nodded before sinking even lower.

Watching a voodoo goddess give a blow job was nothing like porn. For a start Constantine winced in pain as often as pleasure. It was fairly clear who this was for and it wasn’t either of the men in the room. Dean couldn;t help dwelling on the word 'sacrifice' from earlier. Constantine was breathing hard but he was obviously focused on the magic as much as the sex. Even without the odd situation it was so much more immediate too. Dean could taste and smell and feel the heat in the room. A cool breeze chilling sweat hot skin. It was a different, more urgent fascination.

“Hurry up, would you mate?”

“Oh, shit right.” Less gawking more action. Fuck. Was he really about to do this? Yes. Yes he was.

He started by sliding his hands along the smooth expanse of her legs where she crouched like a predator before him. Hot silky skin under his hands helping to draw him back into the reality of it. She still had the lacy robe thing on so he slid that clear running his hands up and under and across her flesh. She arched back towards him, glossy wet and inviting. Fuck.

He knew the moment he slid home that it wasn’t going to last long. The build-up and the magic bath stuff and just everything about the situation was too much. And he didn’t fucking care. Each thrust into cushioned heat and darkness brought him closer to that final edge. Every time he hit the right spot she hummed deep and dark and pure pleasure. Making Constantine swear and writhe under her touch. And Dean really wasn’t sure which of those things did it for him more. Decided it didn’t really matter when it felt this damn good. Moving faster to seek out those reactions again. And again.

He didn’t know is it was the goddess or the man that finally threw him off that thundering precipice of pleasure. It was like some fricking chain reaction and that _had_ to be the magic – reality just didn’t work that way. He even thought he could feel the magic. Felt a pull of something dark and stinging on top of the more familiar pressure building inside him. Biting his lip he let his body lead him. He heard more than saw John come – head thrown back and spine arched. Then within seconds he felt Xala’s body contract around him like nirvana. Dragging his own orgasm out like a fucking miracle. It crashed through him in a cascade of wonton, desperate, incoherent bliss. Taking with it every last shred of breath and energy. It had to be the magic.

It took everything he had not to collapse on top of her. He fell backwards instead into the mountain of silk pillows and the warm haze of his body. Tried to regain a semblance of reality.

Xala disentangled herself from their bodies to stand up and vigorously shake herself awake. Blinking back the golden hue in her eyes and gasping in deep lungfuls of air until there was only one woman in her body. If he wasn’t so fuck drunk he thought it would be creepy. She leaned in where Constantine still had himself half propped against one of the bed posts also catching his breath.

“Good show, Johnny,” she said and kissed him on the cheek. Her voice was back to normal.

“I’d say anytime, luv, but we both know that’d be a lie.”

"Naw it wouldn't, sugar." She laughed without the otherworldly harmonics but still strong and sweet. “Ah’m a go get cleaned up. You boys get back to yer selves and we’ll talk business in an hour. How’s that sound?”

John just nodded. She patted his cheek and left the room like there was nothing unusual in the situation. Like she hadn't just fucked them both half-way to hell and back. Abandoning them to molten candles and sticky bodies. Dean was reminded yet again that these people lived in a different world. He had been raised on the fringes of society and on the edge of the darkness. Trained to fight the supernatural. But the Hellblazer lived in it, breathed it, had the devil on speed dial. It was a whole different league of freaky. Dean felt the mattress dip as Constantine fell to the bed next to him. A heavy arm slipped across Dean’s waist and the Hellblazer managed to get up enough energy to kiss him. Lazy and a little breathless. God that was nice. Dean relaxed into it. It helped draw out the last of the tingling heat in his skin.

“That was freaking hot, man,” Dean said at last. When they both had their breath back but he still didn’t quite have control over his thoughts or his tongue. Nuzzled his way into the warm sweat kissed skin of Constantine’s neck. "Magic frigging rocks."

“I’m going to remember you said that, mate.”

“Go ahead,” Dean smirked. “So long as we can do something like _that_ again.”

“Maybe,” Constantine wouldn’t meet his eye, staring up at the lace and silk above them, but he did pull him in closer.

They both needed to clean up but for that moment he let himself curl up into the Hellblazer’s chest. Let himself enjoy having fingers in his hair and another heartbeat in his ears. Let lassitude overtake him. Let himself just _be_ for a few minutes. That wasn’t too much to ask, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a [tumblr](http://kittyaugust.tumblr.com/) \- <http://kittyaugust.tumblr.com/>
> 
> Also, I totally live for comments - they're what keeps me writing this fluff. So if you enjoyed it (or even if you didn't) it would be lovely if you can take a moment to let me know.


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